


sickly sweet

by arekiras



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Sick Character, Sick Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arekiras/pseuds/arekiras
Summary: "When you marry a man, you marry his snotty nose as well."





	sickly sweet

When Magnus left Alec that morning, having to get to a New York Warlock Council meeting, he had seemed a bit under the weather. When he said good morning, his voice cracked, and Alec heard coughing from the bathroom. But he was mostly asleep, and if Magnus sneezed before stepping into the Portal, he didn’t really notice. 

When Alec arrives home that afternoon from his own meeting, brain heavy with new regulation laws and protocol changes, Magnus is standing over a bubbling cauldron which is steadily spewing milky white smoke, placed directly on their coffee table. 

Next to it, rather precariously, is a half empty box of tissues. “Hey,” Alec calls, and Magnus looks up, glasses slightly askew, nose red and eyes puffy. “You look terrible.” The words leave his mouth before he can decide whether or not it’s an appropriate greeting. 

Magnus’ vague smile turns into a rather pointed frown, and says, “I thought you loved this face.” 

Alec kicks his shoes off and approaches, stepping in close to Magnus, minding the smoking potion, and smiles. “I do, but right now it’s oozing snot.” Magnus sniffles, blowing his nose and then coughing rather hoarsely, before turning back to his potion. 

“When you marry a man, you marry his snotty nose as well. Do I not get a kiss hello?” Magnus crooks an eyebrow without looking up. 

Alec kisses his cheek, and says, “You’re sick, Magnus.” 

“I’m not. Warlocks don’t get sick,” Magnus says, throwing a pinch of dust ground fine into his potion. 

“That’s not true.” 

“ _ I  _ don’t get sick. I haven’t been sick since ‘87.” At Alec’s unimpressed expression, Magnus continues, “1787, that is.” He follows the statement with a sudden and violent sneeze and the potion flares up, nearly singing both of them and then turning a rather poisonous shade of yellow. 

They both peer at it, and Magnus says, after a moment, “I wonder if it’ll still work.” He sneezes again, and then waves his hand to clear his work away as he coughs into his shirt, before sniffing, with great dignity. “I may,” he allows, “be a little under the weather.” 

Alec rolls his eyes and takes Magnus’ hand, pulling him into the bathroom where he sifts through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he’s looking for. Magnus gazes at Alec dully for a moment, before sighing and taking the offered pills with water from the tap, while mumbling something that sounds like  _ High Warlocks don’t need cold medicine.  _

“Get undressed,” Alec says, turning on the shower and fishing around under the sink. 

“You really know how to make a man feel wanted, Alexander,” Magnus remarks, shedding his necklaces before reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

Alec comes back up with a eucalyptus and peppermint shower bomb and drops it into the corner of the shower. “I’ll be more romantic the next time we steam your sinuses,” he says, pulling his clothes off as well and stepping under the spray, the aroma from the shower bomb filling his nose. Magnus follows, breathing as deeply as he can through his stuffy nose. 

Alec shampoos Magnus’ hair, creating a soapy mohawk out of it and Magnus laughs, rinsing his head and allowing the steam and smells to fill his lungs. 

When they get out he feels a little better, his head less full of cotton and he can breathe through his nose. 

“How was the meeting?” Magnus asks, wrapping himself in a robe and turning to look at Alec as he pulls on his sweatpants. 

Alec shrugs. “Boring. I’d rather be here with you,” he says. 

“And my nose oozing snot?” Magnus asks. Alec laughs, and nods. 

“Tea?” Alec offers, and Magnus nods. Alec hunts through the kitchen before setting elderberry tea to boil in the kettle and joining Magnus on the couch. He’s summoned pho from the Vietnamese place a few blocks down, and has a rerun of Catfish on the television. 

“You could have just ordered delivery,” Alec says, but takes his own and tunes into the episode. 

“That would require waiting for them to get here,” Magnus replies after swallowing a mouthful of noodle. 

Alec doesn’t see any arguing with that kind of logic, and only gets up from the couch again to make the tea and get water, leaving their empty bowls on the coffee table and piling together on the couch. Under the fluffy throw blanket, Alec is a little warm, pressed tightly to Magnus’ feverish skin, but doesn’t complain because Magnus has already started to doze slightly, mid afternoon light casting shadows along his cheeks. 

When he emits a snore, congested sinuses affecting his breathing, Alec stifles a laugh, kissing the back of Magnus’ head.


End file.
